Boyish...

When I was younger, I always imagined that when I grew up, I would have two girls. Sometimes I imagined they would be twins, other times not, but it was always girls. Girls to play Barbies with and girls to take to ballet class. But, when I was pregnant with C, I had a feeling he was a boy from the very beginning, and I was so excited! I never once wished for a girl. When I found out I was expecting again, I hoped for another boy, because I wanted C to have a brother and best friend for life. And I was thrilled to end up with a second son. I think my life has turned out just the way it was supposed to, even though it's so different than I imagined. But some days it just really strikes me, "Yes, you have two BOYS."

Yesterday was one of those days. Here's just a sampling of why...

--I watched the first NASCAR race I have ever seen in my life, so that the boys could see the real Lightning McQueen. Of course the DVR stopped taping with 5 laps to go, so after investing 2 hours of our time, we still don't know who won. At least the boys enjoyed seeing some real pit stops. Those guys really DO change tires fast!

--I was totally exasperated with their blatant disregard for my "No throwing balls inside" rule, when I realized that they were playing baseball using a small whiffle ball and a lincoln log for a bat. Just as I warned them, that game ended poorly when C hit O square in the face with the ball. He really needs to work on his pitching skills!

--I put a diaper on their baby doll, in an attempt to discourage the new game they've started playing with this doll, commonly known as "The Baby Pooped on Your Face!!" When C asked why the baby had a diaper on it, I explained that this way, the baby would no longer poop on people's faces. To which he replied, "yes he can, because the poop will just leak out of the diaper!" And then he and O began running around screaming, "The baby's diaper leaked and he pooped on your face!...No, the baby pooped on your face!...HA HA HA HA HA."

Sigh.

But even with a lifetime of race cars, injuries, and poop talk to look forward to, I wouldn't trade my wild and crazy boys for anything! I just hope that they'll always let Mom into their "No Girls Allowed" clubhouse.